Home
by Grace Hightower
Summary: Songfic for Blake Shelton's 'Home'. Just what would have happened if Tony got shipped all over the world by Vance. TIVA romance.


Another summer day

Has come and gone away

In Paris and Rome

But I wanna go home

Mmmmmmmm

Maybe surrounded by

A million people I

Still feel all alone

I wanna go home

Oh, I miss you, you know

Tony stared out the window of the second floor apartment at the grey cityscape in front of him. Paris was beautiful, but it was so cold and sad. People in dark coats hurried by on the street below, eager to get back home to their warm houses and families. Tony wished that he had someone else to share the apartment with him. Too bad that hot brunette had turned down his offer of a date last night. Parisian girls didn't seem to like Tony. Maybe it was that he didn't speak any French. Groaning slightly, he lay back on the narrow bed. He wished that he did. He had picked up a few simple phrases, but hardly enough to communicate with the locals. He suddenly wished that Ziva was there. And suddenly, it was not only for the translations she could offer. Suddenly he missed her very much. He thought of Abby and McGee, trying to convince himself that he felt the same way about every member of the team. But while he missed Abby's cheerful nature and great hugs and McGee's nerdieness, he didn't miss them half as much as he missed Ziva. He thought of the people teaming by on the street below, but it didn't make him feel any less lonely. If anything, he felt even worse. Despite the millions of people sleeping, drinking and living all across the city, Tony felt horribly alone. Rolling over, he pressed his face against the pillow. He tried to remember how Ziva smelled, how her hair smelled like peaches. He tried to pretend that she was lying there next to him, that she was sleeping…but it was too silent. He was the only one breathing, and Ziva snored like a drunken sailor anyway. He closed his eyes and could still see her, right after she had shot that man, making the mistake that landed Tony here and her back in DC, her hair mussed and her eyes wild. How she looked as they stood before Director Vance in his office. _You made a mistake, Agent David. You didn't need to shoot that man. _And Ziva: _ I did it to save…_and there was no need for her to finish her sentence. She knew, he knew, Vance knew. They all knew. She had done it for him. She had risked her life, her job, everything, for him. Tony closed his eyes and rolled over. It was too silent.

And I've been keeping all the letters that I wrote to you

Each one a line or two

"I'm fine baby, how are you?"

I would send them but I know that it's just not enough

My words were cold and flat

And you deserve more than that

Tony fingered the thin piece of paper. He had started so many letters that he had never finished, never bothered to write. Not that he didn't want to or was too lazy. He couldn't. The words were so hollow, empty. They could have been written by anybody, a stranger on the street below, anybody. He knew that only his voice, hs body could make up for the time he had spent away. Words just weren't enough anymore.

Another airplane

Another sunny place

I'm lucky I know

But I wanna go home

I've got to go home

Let me go home

I'm just too far from where you are

I wanna come home

Kabul was too far away. Paris, at least, had something to cling to, memories haunting each side street and ancient bridge. Kabul was distant and unfamiliar. Paris was the city of lights. Kabul was a city of snipers and IEDs and bombs detonating in schools and mosques. Tony knew that he was lucky to have been shipped out as a working federal agent and not fired from NCIS or removed to the sub basement, but he couldn't help but think that this was not fortune. It had seemed like a good alternative to being fired at the time, but now it seemed like it had been an impossible choice. It was like having the choice of being shot to death, quickly and with someone you loved by your side, or slowly being tortured until you died, alone and afraid. The blinding sunlight of Kabul glinted off the skyscrapers and twisted steel of the bombed-out buildings downtown, setting everything aglow with silver flame, but all that Tony could see was fog. All that he wanted was to be back in DC. Five thousand miles away was too far. It would always be too far.

And I feel just like I'm living someone else's life

It's like I just stepped outside

When everything was going right

And I know just why you could not

Come along with me

This was not your dream

But you always believed in me

Another winter day has come

And gone away

In even Paris and Rome

And I wanna go home

Let me go home

Tony stood under the Eiffel Tower, or the Tour d'Eifell, as Ziva called it. The sky was slate grey and cloudy, grim and sad. Parisians in dark clothing and tourists in bright coats swirled about, ignoring the lonely mad in their midst as humans so often do. A thin layer of snow blanketed the ground, the white sheet ground into brown slush by filthy feet. He wondered if it was snowing in DC.

And I feel just like I'm living someone else's life

It's like I just stepped outside

When everything was going right

And I know just why you could not

Come along with me

This was not your dream

But you always believed in me

Tony remembered the last night they had spent together. What Tony had planned, under the ruse of a 'movie night' was to get Ziva to spill her secrets. He wanted to know what had happened in Somalia. Whatever it was, it had cut her deeply, like a knife so thin it left no wounds. But there were scars. He could see them, everyday. If someone touched her from behind, if someone dropped something, if he moved too close to her. He could see it, and it was killing him. Of course, Ziva refused to discuss it. Instead, she drank four beers and started telling him about her childhood.

" I never wanted to be an NCIS agent. I did not even know what is was until Ari killed Caitlin." Ziva had run her tongue thoughtfully along the rim of her bottle. " I never planned on becoming a liason officer or an agent. This was never my dream."

He kept asking. Finally, she told him that it was none of his business.

" You cannot begin to imagine the horrors that I have seen. The things they did to…" And then she stopped talking. He didn't press. He could see how fragile she was, like she would break if he asked another question. It scared him to see Ziva like that, mysterious, cold-hearted assassin that she was. In that moment, he wanted nothing more than to hold her and tell her that everything would be alright in the end. He didn't. He just stared in the opposite direction until she sniffed and took another swig of beer. He regretted it like hell. He would regret it for the rest of his life.

And I'm surrounded by

A million people I

Still feel alone

And I wanna go home

Oh, I miss you, you know

Let me go home

I've had my run

Baby, I'm done

I'm coming back home

Let me go home

It will all be all right

I'll be home tonight

I'm coming back home

He couldn't believe it when Vance called. He could hear Gibbs in the background, could practicly hear him smiling because he was getting his lead agent back. He had his bags packed in ten minutes and had caught a cab to the airport in another thirty. He had to catch a civilian flight back to the States, which was a luxery after the military cargo plane he had taken to Paris, Rome and Kabul. He called Ziva from the airport.

" Tony." She sounded relieved; they hadn't spoken in months.

" It's okay, Ziva. I'm coming home. I'll be home tonight."

Fifteen hours later, Air France flight 235 touched down on the runway at Dulles Airport. Tony hauled his suitcase out of the overhead luggage rack and found himself being shunted along with the vast hordes of people out of the boarding chute and into the main terminal.

He was standing at the baggage claim when he saw her. At first she was just another dark coat and pale face in the crowd. She was walking the other way when she turned and their eyes met. And suddenly she was running towards him, wearing that grey coat she had been wearing when he left. She collided with him, 125 pounds of pure relief.

" Tony!" She cried, wrapping her arms around his waist. His arms encircled her waist, drawing her closer.

" You're home. You came home." She said into his chest.

" Yeah, Ziva. I came home." She raised her face to his and stared into his eyes. Her eyes were filled with sadness and longing.

" I thought you weren't coming home." She said. She looked relieved, elated. Tony knew how she felt. He thought he might never come home, never see her face again. There was really only one thing to do. He kissed her. Ziva leaned into him, her arms tight around his waist. Tony pressed his forehead against hers.

" I'm sorry it took so long." He said.

" It's okay." Ziva replied, taking his hand as they began walking towards the doors. The DC night was cool and snow was drifting down from the sky, like little paper dancers from the inky heavens. " You're home now."


End file.
